All My Regrets- The Kiss Epilogue
by NJL97
Summary: Any Witch and Wizard fan knows that our favorite weasel deserves a truly happy ending, one where he sees his sister again and finally wins Wisty's heart. I do not own Witch and Wizard or its characters. Please review and enjoy! Warning: this contains minor spoliers for The Kiss. This is also a one-shot.


**Byron's POV **

I was standing on a sidewalk, staring at the enormous house that lay before me. It was huge, and had been much too large for the family that had lived there. But the father of the family had been a highly esteemed government worker, and he had enjoyed showing off his wealth. So the family of four had moved into the large, six-bedroom mansion in the "rich side" of the neighborhood. It was a nice house, really. The siding was white with grey shutters, and at one time it had been well kept. But no one had lived there for a while, and the lawn was overgrown, the once-carefully watered flowers were dead, and one shutter hung at an awkward angle.

I stood almost frozen, my hands balled into fists at my sides, my eyes wide. More than anything, I wanted to turn around and run the other way. Not that I could really run that well.

By now everyone would have noticed that I was missing, and would be slightly worried. Especially Wisty.

It had been nearly a month since the disaster with Pearce, and she was still recovering. Thanks to me, the process had sped up quite a bit and she was nearly recovered. I loved Wisty, and I knew that she felt completely awful about the whole thing. I think she might even want to be more than friends with me. Or so I hoped.

My phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket, only to find Wisty's contact picture on the screen. I took a deep breath. I hated to ignore her, but I wanted to be alone for a while. I had to make things right. I turned the phone off and slid it back into my pocket.

I walked up the driveway to the front door. I knew that it was locked, and that I didn't have a key. But there was always a way inside. The door frame was made of brick. My eyes found the row of brick that aligned with the door handle. I counted three bricks over from that. I reached out and slid the third brick out of place. Behind it, a metal key shone in the shadows, just where I knew it would be. I grabbed it and wiped the dirt and grime off it. I jammed it in the deadbolt and twisted it to the right until I heard a satisfying click. The door creaked open. I held my breath.

The house was bare. No pictures hung on the walls. No flower vases. No unnecessary furniture. It was completely up-to-date with New Order code. The only framed photograph in the whole house was one of those stupid posters of the One. It made me sick. As I entered the kitchen, I was not surprised to find that it was empty as well. "Cleanliness is next to oneliness!" Ugh. What a dumb thing to live by. I left the kitchen, feeling disgusted.

Upstairs, I went to the first door on the right. I took a deep breath and pushed it open. The walls were still grey. The carpet was still white. Am expensive-looking desk still sat in the corner. When I opened the closet, all of my polo shirts were still there in color-coded order. My bedroom was exactly the same way I had left it, which was weird. I figured that my father would have cleared out all my things and made it into his third office or whatever.

As I stared at my clothes, I suddenly began to feel very uncomfortable. Sure, I had always worn nicer things, to gain a little more respect (or maybe I was slightly more OCD than the average person), but at the moment I was feeling disgusted by everything. So I went to my dresser and yanked out a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket, and promptly changed out of polo shirt and chinos. Won't Wisty be surprised…

I kicked my clothes to the corner of my room, not having any motivation whatsoever to put them away. I stormed out of my bedroom, not intending to go back. I made my way down the hall, past the other rooms. One was an office, and the other two were guest bedrooms (not that we ever had any guests). When I reached the door at the far end, I paused. The whole reason I made this trip was to enter this room, and now that I was finally here, I was having second thoughts. I did not want to open that door, but I had to. I needed to see for myself.

It was the only room not changed for N.O. standards. The walls were painted light green. Hand-drawn sketches hung from every available space. I felt a lump in my throat when I saw the picture on the bedside table. We were standing side-by-side, making funny faces at the camera. My eyes were crossed, and she had her tongue sticking out. I smiled faintly at the photo of my sister and me. Then, I couldn't help it, I'd held this back for far too long, I started to cry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I whimpered, glad that no one could see me. "If I'd been half as brave as Whit and Wisty, I'd have never done it!" I moaned, the tears cascading down my cheeks. How could I turn my own sister in to the N.O.? It was my fault she was dead. Some great brother I am. I sat down on my knees and hugged myself, rocking back and forth. I lost count of how many times I apologized to thin air.

An hour later I slammed the front door, locking it securely. I returned the key to its hiding place and started to walk away. I took out my phone and texted Wisty.

_**I'm on my way back. **_

Almost immediately after I sent it, the phone rang. I couldn't ignore her this time. I clicked the accept button and held the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked, even though I already knew who it was.

"BYRON!" Wisty yelled, "Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" Strangely enough, her anger did little to punish me. My heart skipped a beat. _She was worried about me_. (Ugh, love blinds us all)

"I'll explain when I get back," I promised her, unable to keep from grinning.

"You'd better," she threatened, although I was not at all intimidated. Yeah, that's my life. I'm not scared by a flame-throwing witch's death threats. But I'm scared to death of my own father. Life makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

"I will, don't worry," I replied.

"Okay. See you soon," she grumbled, and hung up. I continued on, thinking of my sister. I wished she was here.

Everyone lived at the Tube permanently now, including Wisty. She had decided that she could not be trusted on her own, and that living by herself was lonely and boring. Everyone was still adjusting to life after the Wizard King's almost-war. The freed children had received proper medical care and Whit and Wisty had persuaded the new Council to approve the construction of a wall surrounding the city, just in case Pearce or Izbella got any ideas. I was proud of her. Our relationship was getting better, and the only thing I had left to long for in this world was my sister. My life was better than most.

Finally I was back, and was greeted at the door by none other than the fire witch herself. She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do," she said, eyeing my clothes.

"Yeah…" I mumbled, tugging on my jacket sleeves nervously. She took my hand and led me around the side of the Tube. She began to climb the rusty maintenance ladder that was attached to it. I followed her.

"I get the feeling that whatever's bothering you is not something you want to talk about in front of everyone else," she said when we had reached the top. We were sitting on the edge of the building, our feet dangling down. From where we were, we could see the whole city. The sun was setting, and everything was cast in an orange glow. After all that we'd been through, this kind of danger was laughable.

"Telepathic now, are we?" I asked. She shrugged.

"No, I just know you too well," she replied. I sighed, running my fingers through my messy brown hair. I was also sick of hair gel now, and to be honest with you, I wish I had gotten over that phase in my life much sooner.

"I went to my house," I explained, "Just to see if it was still there." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't really the truth either. I think that Wisty could tell.

"And?" she prompted.

"It was there. And I'm not going back," I answered. I could not meet her eyes. I felt her hand gently grab mine. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Okay," she whispered quietly. Usually Wisty was pretty interrogative, but she must have sensed my discomfort. I was faintly relieved. We stayed silent for a while, watching the sun disappear over the horizon. Until a voice came from behind.

"Mind if we join you?" Wisty and I turned around to see Whit, Janine, Emmett, and Ross standing on the roof behind us. Wisty smiled in the way only she can, and answered,

"Sure, why not?" Before long we were all talking and laughing. I could not remember being this happy since… well, before the New Order took over. I looked up at the stars, still visible above the bright lights of the City. I felt so happy.

"Hey!" Ross exclaimed. We were all sitting on the edge of the roof, but he was twisted around, staring at something that had turned his face as white as a sheet. What Ross saw was enough to make all of us speechless. He jumped up. "Sasha!" he cried, and sure enough, Sasha was there behind us, as were Margo, Jamilla, Celia, and someone else I could not really see who was standing behind the others. All of them except Celia glowed with the aura of a Half-Light. They were smiling at us proudly. Margo stepped forward.

"It's been so long since I've seen you all!" she cried happily. Whit stood up warily, followed closely by Wisty and Janine. I remembered them talking about the Wizard King's men using spells to look like some of the dead Resistance members. We had a right to be cautious.

**Wisty's POV**

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Margo, Jamilla, Celia, Sasha… they had _died._ But they were standing right in front of us. I let out a choking sob when I realized that they were Half-Lights, all except for Celia, of course, who was simply a ghost. The One had stolen so much from us.

"Celia…" Whit muttered beside me. Janine gently put her arm around him, and he stopped immediately. Celia stepped forward, her eyes shining brightly. She hardly looked dead.

"Congratulations. The world owes its freedom to all of you. But these kids," she gestured towards our Half-Light friends, "can't cross the River of Forever yet."

"Why?" Emmett asked curiously, his head tipped to one side.

"Because," Jamilla answered, "We have unfinished business. We have to say good-bye to you."

"You could have come sooner!" I cried, thinking of how long Jamilla and Margo must have waited.

"It wasn't the right time," Margo replied sadly, "And you were extremely busy." Oh God. I was feeling sad and guilty and happy all at once and it was NOT going well.

"What about you?" Ross asked a Half-Light who was near the back of the group. I frowned. I had never seen her before. She looked to be about my height, with long brown hair and hazel eyes. She looked frighteningly familiar. I noticed Byron staring at her with wide eyes. Did he know her somehow?

"She's most of the reason that we are here," Celia explained.

"Who are you?" Whit asked. His blue eyes were wide and confused. She took a deep breath (not that she needed to) and stepped forward.

"My name is Bailey," she said softly, "and I'm here to see my brother." Before anyone could question her again, Byron scrambled forward.

"But-but you-you're d-dead," he stammered. Bailey looked at him with sad eyes. It hit me like a freight train. _Bailey was Byron's sister. _

"Yeah. But… it's okay. It was my time. I miss you though," she said quietly.

"No!" Byron cried, "It wasn't your time. You had a whole life to live, and now you can't. And it's all my fault. I'm so sorry, Bailey." He was sobbing now. I could see the tears running down his face glinting in the moonlight. More than anything, I wanted to run up and throw my arms around him, but it wasn't the time for that.

"It's not your fault, Byron, it was _his_," she spits the last word out sourly. I had no freaking idea what they were talking about, and it was really starting to bother me. Byron lowered his head. He didn't answer. Bailey leaned forward and hugged Byron in a way that only a Half-Light could.

**Byron's POV**

I couldn't feel her arms around me, but I could sense her presence; her spirit. I felt warm and safe and happy. Had she forgiven me? She let go and fixed me with a serious stare.

"If you want to blame anyone for my death, Byron, blame our father, not yourself. He's the idiot who forced us to join the stupid New Order in the first place," she proclaimed. A collective gasp came from my friends. I guess they had all thought that I had joined the N.O. on my own accord. I wiped the tears from my eyes.

"I can't do that, Bailey," I whispered. She looked at me sympathetically.

"Then at least let me go, so I can cross the River with your friends," she pleaded. I nodded. I hated to see her go; I had just gotten her back. But I knew how important this was to her. It was the least I could do. I stepped backwards. All my feelings, all the guilt and sadness… I let them go.

"Good-bye, Bailey." My sister turned towards Whit, Wisty, Janine, Emmett, and Ross. She grinned wickedly. Uh-oh.

"So, you guys are the Resistance, yeah?" she asked. Whit smiled back.

"That would be us," he replied.

"So, do you think you could do me one tiny little favor?" I had no idea where she was going with this, but I knew my sister well enough to know that this was going to reflect on me very badly.

"Sure, whatever you want, of course, we do have some exceptions," Wisty answered.

"Keep an eye on my little brother for me, okay?" she asked, "He's trouble." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not your little anything," I protested. She smiled devilishly at me.

"Check our birth certificates sometime, bro. I'm ten minutes older," she laughed. WHAT? All this time (seventeen years to be exact) I thought I was the older one… When she saw my expression, she just laughed harder.

"Will do," Whit smirked. Oh dear…

And then they were gone through a portal, as quickly as they had appeared. I stood, rooted to the spot, unable to move. For a few moments, I wasn't sure what to feel.

"Byron?" Wisty asked tentatively, "Are you okay?" Her voice was enough to bring me back to reality, and I answered as truthfully as possible. Everyone was listening. I took a deep breath.

"Actually, for once… I'm perfectly fine," I replied, and it was the truth.

"What about your family?" Janine asked. Wisty walked over and put her arms around me.

"I've got one right here that's just as good." As I looked into Wisty's loving eyes, I felt nothing but hope.

**THE END**

**Author's Note****: I always wondered how Byron felt about his sister, and I decided I owed it to my absolute favorite book character to give him a truly happy ending. So I did. I'm sorry if it was a little confusing. **


End file.
